


Shadow Play

by standbygo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Delusions, Fix-It, M/M, Sad, Sorry Not Sorry, but not really, kind of, sherlock is happy, sherrinford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standbygo/pseuds/standbygo
Summary: If we shadows have offended,Think but this, and all is mended.- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's DreamOf course it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows





	

“Mr. Holmes, how good to see you again!”

Mycroft took the Director’s proffered hand and shook it warmly. “And you, Dr. Bell. You’re well?”

“Very, and yourself? And your mother?”

“A little slower than she’d like, but I still envy her energy.” They began to walk down the corridor, as familiar to Mycroft as his own home. “How is he?”

“I am pleased to say he is greatly improved from your last visit. We’ve adjusted his medications and the violent tendencies are now nearly nil. We suspect that his recent issues were due to a cumulative reaction to his old meds. But now – well, you’ll see for yourself.”

Mycroft nodded, and bit back his next question, as hope was a stranger to not be trusted.

“In fact, he is so very much improved that we were able to return him to his old room last week.”

“You recall that I strongly disagreed with your moving him in the first place,” Mycroft said sternly.

“I know, Mr. Holmes, and I didn’t want to do it. But at that time he was a danger to himself and to my staff.”

“He doesn’t like the glass,” Mycroft murmured, almost to himself.

“I know,” the Director said softly.

They continued through the hallways in silence.

When they came to the door, the Director said, “I would recommend a shorter visit this time, Mr. Holmes – about ten minutes. I’m sorry that you come all this way for such a short time, but he tires easily lately.”

“That’s fine,” Mycroft said.

The Director used his passcard to unlock the door and they entered the room.

“Sherlock? Your brother is here to see you.”

Mycroft smiled at the sight of Sherlock, in loose white cotton pants and shirt; he was facing the wall, pointing at various spots. “He’s gained weight,” he said quietly.

“Yes, eating well again.”

“Good. He-” Mycroft laughed to hide his swelling throat, “he needs a haircut.”

“Scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Excellent.” Mycroft raised his voice. “Hello, brother mine.”

The Director subtly shifted to an unobtrusive corner of the room as Sherlock’s head rose at the sound of Mycroft’s voice.

“Did you bring me a case?” Sherlock said, without turning away from the wall.

“Not this time, Sherlock.”

Sherlock shrugged. “I had a lovely case last week. A diamond – blue! – the size of an egg. The man hid it in a goose. He lost it, you see, and was stealing geese to find it again. Ridiculous. We laughed and laughed, and John wrote it all up.”

Sherlock moved across the room, pushing his hair out of his face as he paced. “There was another. Dancing men. But it was code and I solved it, and stopped someone getting murdered. John was very helpful with that one too.”

Mycroft glanced over at the Director and raised an eyebrow. “He’s still talking about John? After all this time?”

“Yes,” the Director murmured. “Still the primary figure in his delusions.”

“John’s so much happier, now he’s moved back,” Sherlock said. “He looked so sad, for years and years, but he smiles now.”

“That’s good, Sherlock.”

Sherlock sat on the floor, his back against his bed, his legs stretched out in front of him. “And Rosie, she’s growing so fast. See? She looks like John when she laughs, but like Mary when she cries.”

“Rosie?” Mycroft whispered to the Director.

“That’s a new name. Appeared quite recently. Seems to be a child.”

“Look! Look!”

Mycroft turned again to Sherlock, who now had his arms and hands stretched out in front of him, reaching into the empty air. “She’s walking! Come here, Rosie, you can do it! Good – good – good girl!” Sherlock crossed his arms across his chest, as though holding something precious.

Quietly and carefully, Mycroft walked towards his brother and sat on the floor next to him. Sherlock was rocking gently from side to side, whispering “Good girl.”

“Sherlock?” Mycroft said. “Sherlock, will you say hello to me?”

“Did you bring me a case, Mycroft?”

Mycroft swallowed hard. “Not today, no. Just a social call.”

“John put the earphones back on the skull, Mycroft. Just like it was, like nothing happened. The rug was ruined but we got a new one. John came back and he brought Rosie and now he’s happier.”

“I’m glad for you, Sherlock.”

Sherlock held his arms out again, as though handing something to the air. “Look, there’s Daddy!” he said, and settled back next to Mycroft again. “I think I might tell him, Mycroft,” Sherlock whispered. “He’s happier, and I think it would be okay if I told him. Do you think it’s okay?”

“Tell him what?”

Sherlock smiled. “I think it’s okay. I love him, I love him so much, and I think he loves me too.”

Mycroft looked at his little brother. Sherlock was calm, and his smile was wide and happy, and he was glowing with contentment. He smiled back.

“I think it’s okay, Sherlock,” he said, and kissed his brother softly on his temple.

**

“You didn’t have to come all the way out, just to wait for me in the waiting room,” Mycroft said as he strapped himself into the helicopter.

“I wanted to, even if I couldn’t see him. Just to be here.”

“It’s too bad, really. You probably could have come in. He was absolutely calm, quite peaceful. You know, I think next time you could probably bring your violin and play for him again. He does love that.”

“I’d like that.”

Mycroft patted her knee. “Don’t cry, Euros,” he said. “He’s quite happy, happier than he’s ever been.”

“But the delusions?” Euros said, fumbling in her purse.

Mycroft handed her his handkerchief, and she smiled gratefully and wiped her eyes. “He’s always had them, and he likely always will, sister mine,” he said gently. “He’s had them nearly thirty years now but this is the first time I’ve seen him so at peace.”

He looked thoughtfully out the window as the helicopter took off. “You know, Euros, if Dr. Bell said he could stop the delusions tomorrow, I don’t think I would.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No.” Mycroft smiled. “Our brother is happy now.”

Euros nodded, and Mycroft put an arm around her as Sherrinford Hospital faded into the distance.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I really hate my muse, folks. Sorry.
> 
> I was really stumped about how to tag this. I got great suggestions from hubblegleeflower and stilltheaddict, but let me know if you have other ideas.
> 
> This was partially inspired by watching Harvey with Jimmy Stewart.
> 
> Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites without my express permission. Thank you.


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